


The Harvesting Darkness

by AlexG



Series: Quinn Fabray: Companion [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Glee
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-08
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 15:28:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/712290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexG/pseuds/AlexG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quinn's first trip in the TARDIS to an alien world turns sinister when a religious order tries to eliminate dark emotions, but they may have a good reasons. Features elements mentioned in passing in 11th Doc Episode "Amy's Choice".</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Kalaan knew her parents would not have approved of her late night walks outside of the village. They had made the rules perfectly clear to her when she was no more than a toddler. It wasn't safe after dark, they said. The doors and windows were to be firmly shuttered and that was that. But she was smart, she was savvy, and she could take care of herself. She was fourteen years old, after all. What did she need adults for? All they did was ruin things.

She swore up and down that she would never, ever let herself become like them. No spontaneity, no sense of adventure, no drive, and no ambition. None of her elders - neither of her parents nor any of her four grandparents - had ever even ventured outside the village. Maybe she was different. Maybe she was Touched with the Red, as her father had said. Maybe she was just a freak, like her brother continually insisted. It didn't really matter to her what she was; just what she didn't intend to become.

What Kalaan would never, ever be was one of those stodgy members of the Order. The very thought made her shiver. Praying all day in a monastery wearing the white robes with blue trim that were standard garb of the office made her skin crawl. It was all her parents seemed to aspire to in their whole lives. Well, not her. She would die before she let that happen.

Granted, going out for a walk at midnight wasn't exactly thrilling on the same scale as sailing across the ocean to the Unknown Continent, or going to the highlands to climb up the sheer rock walls. Anything you could do in a dressing gown and slippers without anyone noticing the next day just from the state of you at breakfast could hardly be considered an adventure to shake the foundation of the ages. But it was there, it was within reach, and it made her happy while offering a chance to rebel against her parents. That pretty much made it a plan with no drawbacks.

She had sampled the summer night air by accident when her window blew open one night, but it was intoxicating. She couldn't get enough, heaving lungful after lungful of the stuff. It wasn't like the smell of the earth after it rained; this was pervasive. No matter how much she smelled it, it didn't fade.

Further, the view out her window was too picturesque to simply ignore behind closed shutters. A hundred thousand - perhaps a million - points of blue light waved in the distance, surrounding the village, creating a sea of undulating stars around the settlement. And it was beautiful, but it also marked the artificial boundary that made her world so very small.

It was silent out but for the rustling of the warm breeze through the trees, but when the wind did die down it was the sort of pervasive silence that seemed even louder than the sounds before them. She loved it, loved the dichotomy of it. It was like her life in many ways; quiet and tempered for her parents' eyes, but with a wild streak that she didn't let anyone else see.

Of course, if she didn't have to take her walks alone, that might be a different story. It was a foolishly romantic thought that she couldn't quite shake; maybe she'd find a nice boy to share these midnight adventures with sometime. The thought made her smile as she walked along the outermost path, by the fields of light. But the one that came after did not - Daneel.

Daneel was a year ahead of her in school, and didn't seem to realize that they lived on the same planet, let alone in the same village. The only one Daneel cared about was stupid Chal. Stupid, beautiful Chal with her stupid brown hair. Kalaan hated her own hair, with the ugly blonde curls everywhere. Why couldn't she have perfect brown, straight hair, like the one stealing all of Daneel's attention?

No sooner had this thought flashed through her mind then she heard a noise, a rustling sound behind her. This time it was no wind, though. This was closer, heavier, more deliberate. Like something moving through the tall grass, stalking her. She stopped and did a half turn, then thought better of it and quickened her pace instead. She had heard stories from the other children of creatures that lived in the meadows and attacked people, but she hadn't ever seen one. It had to be just a stupid kids' story, right? If there was any such animal, an adult would have said so at some point these last fourteen years. They would have studied them in school.

But then again, why were her parents always so adamant that the windows and doors be shuttered at night? Suddenly she felt that she had had enough of rebellion, and that maybe going home was the much better choice at this point. She didn't want to take her defiance so far as to be mauled or eaten; somehow that seemed counterproductive.

She turned around on the path again, still hearing the rustling sounds from the grass beside her. As each terrifying thought came to her mind, the rustling grew louder, in a never ending cycle. She was finally within sight of the house when the rustling stopped. A large figure appeared in the meadow, seeming to suck up the darkness around it like a cocoon, and glided into her path. She screamed and turned around again, but the thing raised an arm, pointed it at her back, and let loose an appendage like a whip. It wrapped itself around her ankles and she fell to the ground, crying out in pain and fear. The thing reeled her in, flipped her onto her back, and touched a second tentacle to her forehead. She screamed once, and then all she saw was darkness.

When Tannus, who owned the bakery, found her the next morning, she was unresponsive, laying on her back staring up into the sky, smiling maniacally and giggling softly to herself.

DAVID TENNANT

DIANNA AGRON

DOCTOR WHO

THE HARVESTING DARKNESS


	2. Chapter 2

Quinn Fabray stumbled into the TARDIS (a vehicle that traveled through space and, as she had recently learned, time) and sat down on the bench seat on the far side of the console. Her breathing was hard, and she braced her arms on her knees, taking deep breaths. "Woah," she said, still fighting for air.

Her traveling companion, the Doctor, who owned this amazing vessel that was bigger on the inside and looked like a simple wooden box from the exterior, followed. He was not all smiles and laughter as he often was when they were together. In fact he looked downright sad. He threw his coat on the pillar to his right, twisted a couple of knobs on the console, then turned to her. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

She looked up at him, stared deep into his shining eyes, and said the only thing she could think of at a time like this.

"Are you kidding me?" He looked at her quizzically. "Are you _freaking kidding_ me? You're 'sorry'? That's what you have to say after... that?" she pointed to the door on the word 'that', indicating what lay beyond.

"I can't apologize enough, Quinn. I just..."

She stood up to her full height, still not enough to come close to his eye level but at least bridging the gap significantly. "After what just happened out there," she said, staring him down, "how can you possibly feel the need to apologize?"

"I promised you we'd go listen to..."

"You just took me to London, on September 20, 1980, thirteen years before I was _born_ to see Journey live in concert."

"And Don't Stop Believin' wasn't released until 1981."

"I don't care," she said. "I've never been outside Ohio except for the odd vacation here and there," she said. "You took me to 1980. And London. But mostly, _nine teen eighty_ ," she said, stressing each syllable. "I'm pretty much awestruck."

"I just wanted your first trip to be special," he said.

"It was. I promise." She smiled at him, and he smiled back. There was something about this girl that he liked. He just hoped he could make a good impression on her before she slipped back into her melancholy state.

Quinn wasn't one of his average companions. Usually the Doctor took a guest aboard the TARDIS because they were bold and adventuresome, like Peri, or Rose, or to thank them for something they'd done, like Martha. If nothing else, they were at least going of their own volition. Quinn was a lot more like Donna, who had shown up in the console room dressed in a wedding gown to both of their great surprise. She was stuck here.

The Doctor had to admit, she was probably the closest thing he had found to a kindred spirit since the time war. Nobody could ever understand the full extent of his grief, but Quinn might come close. When he had shown up at her high school tracking down an alien threat, the entire student body had just found out that she was pregnant, and that had been the linchpin of her downfall.

She didn't know what it was like to be deposed as president of your planet, but she did know what it was like to lose her popularity and respect. She didn't know what it was like to have someone you were in love with sealed up in a parallel universe, but she knew what it was like to have a guy she loved say he was done with her for good. She didn't know what it was like for your entire family and all your friends to be dead, but she knew what it was like to be told by your parents that you were no longer welcome in your own home, and to feel unloved. She didn't know what it was like to regenerate, and lose your entire self, but she knew what it was like to feel like your body had been taken over by someone else. And she knew what it was like not to have a home planet, because she couldn't ever go back.

There were two Quinn Fabrays in the universe because of everything that had happened at McKinley high, and the Doctor wasn't sure how he felt about it. The laws of time had been, if not broken, at least severely bent. He had given six people a chance to re-live a section of their lives, just to save them from being more casualties of the aftermath of the time war, and he could not say with any certainty why he had done it.

Time was like an eggshell. In some circumstances it was surprisingly strong and resilient; at other times it could shatter with little provocation. The Doctor had intentionally created a weak point just to save six little people, and he wasn't sure he would do it again if he was, ironically, given the chance he had given them. His nature as a person concerned with the welfare of others drove him to save lives. His nature as a Time Lord was to protect the integrity of time itself. He had chosen the former and he was still second guessing it. Meanwhile, Quinn was paying the price.

The same object on its own timestream should never encounter itself directly. Rose had learned that the hard way with her dad. Quinn was a duplicate; he wasn't sure what was going to happen. So while it was an exaggeration to say that Quinn couldn't go back to Earth at all, ever again, he would be very hesitant about bringing her anywhere near North America, and the thought of seeing anyone she knew again was out of the question.

Meanwhile, back on Earth, six high school kids were under strict orders not to use their knowledge of upcoming events for personal gain or to alter the timeline, and he hoped that trust hadn't been misplaced. Of course there would be differences - no man with a blue box poking around and no alien in the basement plotting to destroy the timeline were chief among them. The Korosis had effectively edited itself out of time when it was cut to ribbons in the time vortex.

"You okay?" she asked. "You're quiet all of a sudden."

"Yeah," he said. "Perfectly fine. So, Quinn Fabray, where to next?"

"I don't know... do you ever have trouble deciding?"

"All the time."

"Why don't we just leave it up to chance then?"

"I like the way you think." He'd traveled with a randomizer on the TARDIS before but that had been out of necessity. This was going to be for fun, and that made it exciting. He spun a dial, input question marks in place of coordinates, and reached for a lever, then paused. He had been entering a variable change into the flight system, just one simple caveat; if the randomizer, out of the billions and billions of times and places available, somehow decided on Earth, America, within 100 years plus or minus 2009, it was to reroll. But he'd noticed something when he did it. A blip. Just a blip, barely noticeable, just an eddy in the time stream. It was barely worth thinking of at all, it was there and gone so quickly. He filed it away in his brain to think about later.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said after a lag of a couple seconds. He turned to her. "Care to do the honors?"

She stood up from the chair, reached out a tentative hand, and suddenly they were off. No matter how many times the Doctor promised her the shuddering and trumpeting sound were normal, Quinn had a hard time getting used to them. The Doctor wasn't bothered, though, so she didn't say anything. After a few minutes of shaking and rattling, the capsule came to a stop with a thud.


	3. Chapter 3

"Where are we?" Quinn asked.

"Dunno," he said. "It's a planet, half a galaxy away from Earth," he said. "Gravity's about ten percent lighter than Earth, which means a slightly smaller surface area, rotational speed is slightly faster which would make the average day about... what, twenty-two and a half hours? Seems about right." He moved towards the doors, grabbing his jacket. "There's one sun in the sky, two moons, and," he said, pulling both the doors open, "it is one beautiful summer day."

They stepped out through the doors, right into a field with chest-high grass. Quinn savored the first step. It was a lot to take in. Three days ago, she was homeless, rejected, and alone. Now she was taking, for the first time in her life, a step onto a completely different planet.

"This is..."

"Yeah," he said, grinning. "I know!"

"Does this ever get old?"

He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Never!" He held out his right arm and she wrapped her left around it. "Shall we, Ms. Fabray?"

"Let's shall, Dr. Smith."

They started strolling through the meadow. "Actually," he said, "Doctor Smith was an alias."

"What's your name then?"

"The Doctor."

She looked at him, her eyebrows raised as if she were waiting for more. An unasked 'Yes, and?' was plastered on her face. When he didn't say anything else after a few moments, she probed verbally. "Doctor... who?"

"Just The Doctor."

"So, what, no name? Just a title?"

"No!" he exclaimed. "That'd be ridiculous. The Doctor is my name."

She shook her head. "One day I'm gonna figure you out," she told him.

"Good luck."

They walked arm in arm through the field for a few minutes, heading vaguely towards a mountain peak visible on the horizon to their right. Quinn was having a hard time taking it all in. "This is just... it's incredible," she said breathlessly. Then she tucked her chin and looked away from him bashfully. "Sorry, I know I'm gushing a lot today. Hormones. I'm kinda wearing my heart on my sleeve these days."

"Good!" he said. When she looked at him, puzzled, he elaborated, "Letting yourself feel your emotions is the best thing you can do for them," he said. "Don't ever, ever apologize for how you feel," he said. She wasn't sure what to say to that; it was completely different to how she'd been raised. Before she could say anything, though, he had changed the topic. "Now, that looks interesting," he said, pointing towards the horizon where the tops of some buildings were becoming visible above the grass. "Not that I don't love a planet of endless meadow as much as the next guy, but..." he shrugged.

"But what?"

"Dunno. I was trying to come up with something better than 'buildings are cool.' C'mon."

They walked along onto a path, then in through a gate into a hamlet right out of one of Shakespeare's plays. Quinn said as much, and the Doctor wrinkled his nose. "Ooh, I hope not. At least, not like last time."

"The things you say don't make any sense," she said.

"Best that way," he said. "Keeps people guessing."

"Greetings travelers," a young woman said, approaching with a basket of washing.

"Greetings!" the Doctor responded enthusiastically.

"Will you be staying long? If so, the inn has beds aplenty. And tonight, we feast!" she said, before walking away.

"Oh, that's lovely, that is," the Doctor said. "Did you hear that, Quinn? Tonight we feast!"

"Yeah, I did," she said. She looked at him. He looked at her. He shoved his hands in his pockets. She folded her arms across her chest.

"Oh, alright, it's a bit dull," he said. "But..." Suddenly there was a shriek from one of the smaller houses, and a girl not much older than Quinn rushed out, leaned over the porch rail, and began to weep. "Okay, now, that's more like it," he said, and started running towards the house with Quinn close behind. They ran up to the woman and the Doctor reached out his arms towards her in a sort of half hug. "There there, it's okay," he said. "What's the matter?"

She didn't answer, but she didn't push him away either. She just stood there and let the sobs come as they would. The Doctor rubbed circles on her back. Quinn was surprised, though she shouldn't have been. It really was an alien culture, after all, on where you apparently didn't have to be afraid to show your emotions. People waking by the odd display didn't stop to rubberneck, but they weren't ignoring them and trying to go about their business either. They would usually hold their hands up as they passed, palm out to the crying woman as they walked by. It was just enough to show that they acknowledged her sorrow.

The girl had settled down a bit by now, and the Doctor tried again. "There, there," he said. "Now, what's the matter?"

"It's my sister," the girl said. "Kalaan. She's been marked."

"Ooh, sounds serious."

"I wanted to send for a doctor but my parents won't hear of it. They say only a doctor from the Unknown Continent..."

"Oh, yes, that's me," he said. "Sorry, didn't I say?" He held out the little leather wallet for her to look at. "There you go, that's me. The Doctor, from the Unknown Continent, and this is my assistant, Quinn. Say hello, Quinn."

"...Hello." she said a little unsurely. She gave a little wave with the fingertips of her right hand.

"That's Quinn. Sweet Quinn. And I'm the Doctor, and your sister's Kalaan. And you are?"

She sniffed. "Andrinia."

"Andrinia. Lovely name. What happened to your sister?"

"I told you, she's marked!"

"Right, yes, but... Unknown Continent, remember?"

"She was fine last night, but this morning, they found her out on the path, just staring up at the sky, giggling like an idiot. They say she's marked by the Order. That's what all this feast business is about... everyone's celebrating having another Order member coming out of the village."

"Well, seems like a good thing," he said. "A little feast, a little party?"

Andrinia shook her head vigorously. "The last thing my sister and I wanted was to join the Order. I know everyone says it's an honorable thing to do, but she wouldn't want to go. I know it! Just, please, would you look at her?"

He smiled. "What kind of Doctor would I be if I didn't? Well, an out-of-work one, I suppose."

She ushered them into the house. "I've fetched the Doctor, mama," Andrinia called as they entered.

"Darling, how many times?" an older woman sitting at a table said. "There is nothing at all wrong with Kalaan. She is going to join the Order tonight at the ceremony, and then she will live the rest of her days in peace," she said, not unkindly, but soothingly. "We should all aspire to be so lucky."

Andrinia shook her head. "I don't believe that Kalaan chose this, mama. Not for a moment. You know she was never a believer before yesterday."

"The gods have opened her mind, daughter, and I pray they will do the same for you." She stood and left the room airily.

"She's in the bedroom down the hall," Andrinia said after her mother had gone. "Please hurry. Time is of the essence. The ceremony starts in half an hour."

They were led into a small bedroom, the window of which had been almost completely blocked out. The only light came in through the kitchen, making everything in the room seem shadowy. Quinn's eyes adjusted slowly, and she could just make out the figure of a young girl lying face up on the bed. She giggled softly to herself every now and again at nothing. It was almost, but not entirely, like something out of a horror movie. The laugh wasn't mischievous or tainted with evil undertones. Quite honestly, the girl sounded like she was the happiest she had ever been in her entire life. That didn't make the whole thing any less creepy.

"Hello, Kalaan, I'm the Doctor," the Time Lord said, sitting on the edge of the bed sideways so he could look at her. "Kalaan?" She didn't reply or acknowledge his presence in any way. She just kept giggling. "Andrinia, could you boil us a pot of water, dear? That's a good girl." Andrinia nodded silently and set about the task the Doctor had given her. "Watch the door," he said quietly to Quinn. "Let me know when she comes back."

"What for?"

"I don't want to scare her with this," he said, taking the sonic screwdriver out of his breast pocket. He ran the device over the young girl, shining the blue light in her eyes and over her forehead. "There's a marked decrease in brain activity in the amygdala," he said. "It's like some kind of neural inhibitor, but it's only focused on that one part of the brain."

"What's the amygdala responsible for?"

He looked up at her. "Fear."

"So she's, what, the bravest girl in the universe?"

"No, it's more than that. The amygdala processes everything around you - what you see, what you hear, what you smell, and even the bits your conscious mind misses, and determines whether to react or not. You freeze up and look for the source of a noise, that's the amygdala. You start to walk a little faster and clutch your handbag tighter, that's the amygdala. Flight or fight. Hers... she can't even process what's happening around her. That's why she's laughing. Point a gun at this girl and scream at her and she'll have the same physiological response as being handed a boxful of kittens. It's a limbic hijacking."

Quinn listened to the impromptu biology lesson, while watching Andrinia at the stove. "She's coming," Quinn said, and pretended to be examining a photo on the wall rather than be caught staring.

Andrinia came in with a steaming pot. "Here you are, Doctor," she said, setting it down on the bedside table.

"Marvelous!" he said. He reached into his pocket, emptied a handful of tea leaves into the pot and promptly forgot about it. "Where did they find her?"

"On the path behind the bakery, right beside the Candle Meadows."

"The Candle Meadows? You mean the way we came?" Quinn asked.

"Yes, dearie," Andrinia said. "Surrounding the village for miles around. There's nothing but meadows between here and the other villages. Then east of those is the ocean, and beyond that the Unknown Continent."

"And what about to the west," the Doctor said. "What's on the mountain?"

Andrinia busied herself with her apron strings. "We don't talk about that so much," she said.

He put a hand on her shoulder. "Andrinia. Tell me."

She sighed. "The mountain's where the Order are situated. But there's nothing but evil in there, Doctor," she said. "Darkness surrounds it. Not even the meadow goes that far. For miles around there's not a living thing."

The sun had begun to set by this point, and there was a knock at the door. Andrinia and Kalaan's mother opened the door, and spoke to whoever was outside for a moment. Then she came into the bedroom. "The feast is beginning," she said. "Come along. Bring your sister."

"I really don't think she's in any shape for a shindig," the Doctor said.

"Nonsense. She's the guest of honor! Anyone who stands in her way stands in the way of the Gods themselves." She turned to fix them with a hard stare. "I think you should be going, Doctor."

He stuck his hands in his pockets, and glared at the woman as he sidestepped past her through the doorway. Quinn followed, and once they were outside on the porch the door was shut behind them. "What was with the death glare back there?" she asked him. "Do you think she did something to her daughter?"

He shook his head. "Nah, that kind of mental block is way beyond primitive homeopathy. But she's pretty willing to just hand the girl over, too. Means she's scared, or just unwilling to deal with the problem."

"Are you sure? Maybe this is really what she wants for her daughter," Quinn said. "Maybe this is what she thinks is best."

"Give the girl a choice and let her decide on her own and I'll help pack her bag. But not like this. Handing over someone who can't think for themselves is wrong."

Quinn fell behind him as he strode off, thinking back to when her grandfather had been in a nursing home in hospice with late stage Alzheimer's. Would the Doctor be so quick to condemn sending someone where they could get the help they needed if it were an old man who'd had his time, instead of a young girl just starting out?

Tables were being set up outside the homes in rows, with the wooden steps up to some building - post office or city hall, maybe - doubling as a makeshift stage where a podium had been brought out. A row of chairs sat along the front of the stage even with the podium. Torches gave the only illumination and for a moment, Quinn was reminded of her parents' annual garden party.

She didn't really want to think about home any longer. She changed the subject. "What's a Candle Meadow?"

"Dunno," he said.

"It's not, like, some space term or something?"

"I've never heard it before. Well, come on."

She was confused. "Come where? Are we leaving?"

"Nah, I just want to get to the inn before the rush."

"What for? Gathering information?"

"No, I just don't want all the good rooms to be snapped up."

She stated at him. "You're actually going to get a room? What about the TARDIS?"

"I like to stick as close as possible to where the action is."

She couldn't really argue with that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: If you've been reading and you've yet to leave a review, I'd love to hear from you. I'm not just some guy who thrives on human approval and needs constant ego stroking to survive... well, alright, I am. But more to the point, I want to know if the story is living up to peoples' expectations as a Doctor Who adventure, because that's the hardest part of all this.

The more time they spent in this tiny village, the more Quinn felt it was like being in one of those RPGs Artie and Tina kept going on and on about. How long would it be before knights in shining armor rode over the hill slaying a dragon? The inn only reinforced that idea, with a myriad of people eating and drinking on the main floor with steps up to the rooms in the corner. Maybe they'd run into some bold adventurers relaxing before the next quest. Then it dawned on her... she and the Doctor were the bold adventurers! The thought made her smile.

"There's only one room available, sir," the owner told the Doctor.

"Ooh. Well, that's... uh..." he looked over his shoulder back at Quinn.

She approached the counter and faced him. "Promise to turn your back when I change?"

"Yes, absolutely."

"One room will be fine," she said. "But I'm having the bed."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he replied.

They climbed the stairs up to the room. It wasn't exactly a Hilton hotel. It was barely a Motel 6. There was a bed, a single wooden chair, and an end table. That was about it, with the exception of another door at the far end of the room.

"Is that the bathroom?" she asked, pointing to the second door.

He opened it. "Ah, no."

Her face fell. "Please tell me that you haven't taken a very pregnant girl who's still emptying the contents of her stomach every morning to a planet that hasn't mastered indoor plumbing."

"Oh, how should I know? There's not a handy guide to the restrooms of the universe, you know. There's not an app for that. Besides, you pulled the lever. It could have been you."

"There's still the TARDIS."

"Yeah, but, don't you want to soak up some local color?"

"I'll give it a shot but I have a feeling the only color I'll have in abundance is green."

He smiled. "I'm guessing you'll find a shared bathroom at the end of the hall."

"That's something, anyway." She sat down on the bed. "So, where does the door lead then?"

"Oh, I thought you'd never ask. We've got ourselves a balcony!" he grinned like this was the most exciting thing in the world. And maybe it was the most exciting thing in this particular world, but she'd stared down a giant alien in her school's basement with him. A balcony seemed to pale in comparison somehow. "It's quite the view," he said, holding out his hand. She took it and came outside with him. "You asked what a candle meadow was," he said. "I think that might be it."

She looked down at the village streets, at first not seeing what he was referring to. But out in the distance, she could see the grasses they had walked through on the way in. On top of each stalk of grass was a tiny blue speck, glowing like an LED in the twilight. As far as the eye could see the tiny blue specs waved in the warm summer breeze. "That's beautiful," she said. "They're like..."

"...candles, yeah." he finished for her. "Well, blue candles, anyway."

"This is what you come out here for, isn't it?"

"What, this? I didn't even know it was here."

"No, that's what I mean. New things. New, amazing things."

"Pretty much."

"Seems like a good life."

"Yeah. Mostly it is I suppose. Now, come on. There's a feast to be had."

The feast, as it turned out, was pretty good, although Quinn was surprised the Doctor went along with it, as much as he seemed to dislike the idea of Kalaan being sent away, potentially against her will. But when the Order's contingency arrived on this planet's equivalent of a horse (a creature with the right number of legs and a long tail, but whose face seemed more like a boar than a horse's), she got a glimpse of why he'd been so even tempered up until now. She was cutting the other breast off a bird about the size of a duck and reaching for the tankard of gravy when they heard the galloping arrival in the distance.

"Look alive," he said, nudging her with his elbow. "Company's coming."

The chatter and mumbling of the crowd did not actually die down until one of the three riders stepped up to the podium, resplendent in his white robes with the blue trim. When he lowered his hood, his eyes were still covered by a mask and his head had been shaved.

He held his hands aloft and the murmuring of twenty different conversations died out almost immediately. Suddenly all eyes, including the Doctor's, were fixed on the speaker in rapt attention.

"People of the village of Modon," he said loftiy, "we have come because you are blessed, and through your blessing we all are blessed. A daughter of your village has been chosen by the Order, and we have come to take her to her new home atop the mountain."

The crowd cheered, and Kalaan was brought forward, wearing a ceremonial red dress with gold tassels and fringe. She could walk if pushed from behind, but apart from that she just stood there before the podium, still giggling ridiculously.

"As you can see, her mirth at being chosen outweighs all else in her mind. Come, child, and you shall take your place among us."

That was when the commotion started. It was quiet at first - just the sound of a tray being knocked over or perhaps two people colliding in the buffet line, but then she saw one of the village elders stand and get knocked back down by a full on collision with a young woman. Fury personified knocked the man down, dodged two other villagers, and wrapped her arms around Kalaan. "Don't you take her!" Andrinia shouted. "Don't you take my sister away from me!"

Quinn thought back to the minister of her old Baptist church, and how he would have reacted to a display like this one. Probably he would tell the older girl she was lacking in faith, say she was only thinking of her own wicked, selfish desires, and dismiss her. So it was a surprise when the monk, or cleric, or whatever you wanted to call him, sat down on the steps to be closer to her. "You have questions, daughter?" he asked kindly.

"No questions. You're not having her!"

"Yes, we are. At the end of the ceremony we are leaving, and she will be coming with us. She is chosen." Again, his tone was kind, while still firm. He spoke like a parent who would not be persuaded to waver on bedtime, but who didn't hold it against the child for asking. "She will be cared for. She will be loved. If there is more you wish to know, you need but ask."

"How was she chosen?" the Doctor asked, and his voice made several people start. They were so enraptured with the scene before them that they had forgot themselves for a moment. "Ooh, sorry," he said. "I'm assuming Q&A time is open to everyone?" He had tilted his chair back on two legs, with his feet propped up on the table and his arms crossed, trying to look nonchalant. But his glasses were on and his eyes were sharp, focused. It didn't seem like 'no' was a viable answer.

"All who follow are encouraged to question," the cleric said.

"Following before you ask makes you a madman," the Doctor replied. "Asking before you follow is basic wisdom."

"You are not of this village," the cleric said.

"Got me there. But then again if everything's as open as you say it is then it shouldn't really matter who's asking the questions, now should it? So I'll ask you again. How was she chosen?"

"It is not the order who choose," the cleric said. "Those who are destined to be chosen manifest themselves at the appropriate time."

"And then it's off to Mt. Doom, signed, sealed, delivered? No choice? No options?"

"Yes."

"It's wrong."

"It has been our way for three centuries."

"It's still wrong," he said. "In fact..."

Several things happened in short order in the middle of his sentence. Andrinia decided she was tired of talking, and started to drag her sister back towards the house. The two other clerics who had taken up positions on either side of the audience swarmed in to intercept her and recover their disciple. Andrinia threw a punch and caught the cleric right in the nose. He went sprawling and crashed into two young men, scattering their half eaten meals all over the ground. The two of them picked the cleric torpedo up and hurled him back from where he had come, causing him to crash into another family. One of the little girls threw a pewter plate into the melee, which smacked someone else cleanly on the noggin. At that point all hell broke loose, and the scene quickly became a mob fight. "No, no no!" the Doctor shouted, standing on their table and begging for silence. Quinn sat on her chair trying to keep a low profile; she didn't want to drag herself into this if she could avoid it. Looking around to dodge projectiles that might be coming at her, she saw what everyone else was too preoccupied to see; the clerics had bundled Kalaan up and were securing her into a second seat on one of the boar-horses.

"Doctor!" she called, pointing, and he whipped around to face what she was pointing at.

"No, no, no!" he yelled, and tried to take off after them, but he abandoned it after less than a minute. The boar-horses were much too fast.

Quinn caught up to him a few seconds later and bent over, hands on her knees. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm not as fast as I was a few months ago."

"Not your fault," he said, stalking back towards the village. The fight had cleared up after a few moments, and Andrinia was walking defeatedly back towards home. "What did you do that for?" he asked, catching up to her.

"I wanted to save my sister," she said dejectedly.

"I was saving her," the Doctor replied. "I never would have let them take her, if it hadn't been for the distraction."

Andrinia scoffed. "Elders always say that," she said. "Promise to listen to your fears, reassure you that everything will be fine, and then do as they please as soon as the mood takes them. If you stand against the Order here, you stand alone."

"I'm sorry life has taught you that," the Doctor said. "I really am. And I promise you... I am bringing your sister back." He stood up taller and yelled out to those who were still milling around. "That goes for all of you! Anyone who's lost a family member to the Order had better get their rooms ready, because I am bringing them back!"


	5. Chapter 5

They followed Andrinia back to her house. "I need to see if I can find whatever did this to her," the Doctor said quietly into Quinn's ear. "Keep her busy." And he walked off to the girl's room and started scanning with the sonic screwdriver.

Keeping Andrinia busy wasn't too difficult. She sat down at the table and began to cry almost immediately. Quinn reached her hand out and covered the older girl's two. "It's okay," she said. "The Doctor said he'd bring her back, and he will."

"You trust him don't you, miss?" She nodded. Andrinia looked like she was about to speak, thought better of it, then changed her mind again. "Forgive me asking but... you are two, yes?"

"Too what?" Quinn asked, not getting it. Andrinia glanced at her growing bump. "Oh, the number two. Yes, I am. Uh, we... are." At least it was a more polite expression than 'knocked up'. "A little girl."

Andrinia looked confused. "How can you know?"

Right. Pre-ultrasound society. "Just a feeling."

Andrinia smiled. "And the Doctor, he is the father?"

Quinn scoffed. "No! The father is..." she fell silent for a moment. Before she'd even let the thought form, the first thing that had flashed across her imagination was Finn's smiling face, not Puck's. She hadn't just lied to Finn; she'd wished, hoped, and prayed that he really was the father. But then, it didn't matter, because she would never see either of them again as long as she lived. Andrinia was still staring into her eyes, waiting for her to finish the thought. "I, uh... I lost him," she said, hoping that Andrinia wouldn't ask any more questions.

"But you trust this man enough to care for you while you are expecting?"

She didn't really have a choice. But Andrinia was looking for an endorsement of the self proclaimed savior, and she didn't feel the need to complicate the issue. "Andrinia, I don't know him well, but I watched him do three impossible things yesterday afternoon, and if anyone can do it, it's him." She had jumped from afternoon to night and back to afternoon so quickly that she couldn't tell how long it had been since she'd slept. Only talking to someone else made her realize it hadn't even been a full day since since she had sung My Life Would Suck Without You and then gone alien hunting. She hadn't even changed her clothes since then - still had on the same pink top with the floral printed skirt.

"I'm frightened," Andrinia said.

"I know."

"Will you pray with me? If the Gods really have chosen her, then maybe they will release her."

Who did aliens pray to? She didn't want to be ashamed before the Lord, but she didn't want to blow the whole cover story by praying improperly either. She somehow doubted that these people had ever heard of the Father, the Son, or the Holy Spirit. For that matter...

... no. Quinn Fabray had lost a lot these past four months. She'd been abandoned by everyone she loved, both family and friends. But God hadn't abandoned her, she hadn't lost her faith, and she was not going to refuse a request for prayer. Ever. "Of course I will," she said, and she bowed her head. Father, I don't know what gods this woman believes in, but please, watch over her and her family. Bring her sister back safely. Amen. They clasped their hands together across the small table and were silent for a few minutes.

When she looked up, the Doctor was watching her and Andrinia, with his hands in his pockets. "Time we were off," he said quietly when they'd finished.

As they walked back to the inn, she asked, "Did you find anything?"

He looked as if he were actually in pain for a moment as he did a little half turn, kicked at a mound of dirt, and said, "Nothing! Kaput, nada. Whatever messed up that girl's brain, it wasn't in the house."

Their "motel room" seemed even smaller after the open-air feast. Even though it was a tiny village, there was somehow a vast feeling to this place... her first alien world. She never thought she'd say that, and she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever get used to it.

They opened the door to the balcony to let the cooler night air into the room, and stood leaning on the railing for a moment, looking out at the candle meadow.

"It really is beautiful, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, looking out at it, but he seemed distracted.

"I just wanted to say... thanks. For bringing me here."

"Mmm," was his only reply.

She looked at the meadow for a few more moments, then looked back at him. "Penny for your thoughts."

"Something's missing. Something happened to that poor girl and yet there's no cause that I can see. But it's like something is... off. All around us, something's strange. And the clerics, even the girl's mother... they're unwavering in their beliefs but it's like they don't even care about our meddling. The only person who's shown any feistiness at all is the sister."

"Maybe that's just how people are here."

"Not in my experience. I mean, you know better than anyone how religious fanatics are."

She turned away from the meadow to look at him, her mouth a tight line. "You know what?" she said with a hint of anger, to indicate that he was treading a dangerous line, "Just because someone believes in something doesn't make them a bad person." She glared at him.

"No. Sorry." He seemed like he was about to say something else, thought better of it, and then changed the subject. "You'd best get some rest," the Doctor told her, walking back inside. She followed him. "Busy day tomorrow. We're going up the mountain." He faced the wall with his face in the corner.

"What're you doing?" she asked, watching him stand there like a kid in time out.

He looked back at her. "I promised to turn my back while you changed," he said, looking genuinely perplexed.

"It was a joke you nut!" she said. "I didn't exactly have time to pack an overnight bag, although if we're going to make a habit of staying at Ye Olde Space Inns maybe I'll start carrying a messenger bag with a few things in it. I'm just gonna take off my shoes and sleep in what I'm wearing."

He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. He seemed distracted. "Even better, then." He changed his position, leaning his back against the wall and putting the flat of his right sneaker onto the wall behind him. He tilted his head down and stared at the floor.

When he said nothing else for a minute, she assumed the conversation was over, and pulled back the covers. "Ooh," she said, getting in. "This mattress is soft."

"Probably stuffed with feathers," the Doctor said absent mindedly. "They'll come up with inner springs. Give it a century."

"I wasn't planning to stay that long," she replied.

"Mmm," was all he said, still staring at a point on the floor as if he were daring it to blink first.

She took one of the two pillows and bunched it up under her back for support. Gone were the days when she could sleep just about anywhere. Damn you, Puck.

She lay on her back for a few minutes, eyes closed, but listening to him. He hadn't moved. She propped herself up on her elbows. "Aren't you gonna lay down on the floor?"

"What for?"

"To sleep!"

"Hm? Oh, sleep, yeah. Eventually." She lay back down. "Maybe."

She tossed and turned for a few more minutes, then sat up again. "Look, will you at least sit down then? I can't sleep with you... just standing there."

He didn't respond for a moment, then looked at her and said, "Hm? Oh, right, of course." He turned the chair around and sat down in it.

She flopped back down onto the bed, exasperated. She tossed again. She turned again. She rolled over onto her side and caught a glimpse of his eyes. "Oh for the love of... are you watching me sleep?"

"No! Well, I mean, sort of but, I was just thinking about how to breach that monastery on the mountain, and..."

"Urgh!" she said. She threw the covers off, stood up, and put her shoes back on. "You stay here 'where the action is' if you want," she said. "I'm going to go sleep in the TARDIS where - and I want you to take a moment to realize just how profound this statement is considering your phone booth is bigger on the inside and travels in time - it's less weird!"

"It might not be safe out there!" he said.

"It's a five minute walk through a shockingly well lit meadow. It's not even like it's midnight or something crazy like that," she said. "The villagers haven't even gone to bed yet. I'll be fine."

"Ehhhhhh..." he said, rubbing the back of his neck and screwing up his face as if he were thinking really, really hard. "Alright, fine, please yourself. I'll come find you in the morning."

She smiled at him. "I'll have breakfast ready."

"Eggs and toast. Lovely." He smiled back. "Remember the way? Have your key?"

"Yes, dad," she said teasingly, and then her smile faded ever so slightly. "Good night, Doctor."

"Good night, Quinn."

As soon as she closed the door, he flopped down on top of the bed, still in his suit and shoes. She must have been mad. The feather bed was ridiculously comfortable. He smiled. The most fun companions were the feisty ones. Besides, he could let them have a little more leeway. He wouldn't ever have to worry about someone convincing her that he was evil, like the Master had convinced Lee.

He closed his eyes. It drove the humans mad, but he rarely slept. Especially when he had something on his mind, which was always. Still, the bed below was very comfortable... maybe inspiration would strike in his sleep. What would a short nap hurt? He had only just begun to drift off when a scream from outside made him sit bolt upright. Immediately he was alert again, and he rushed to the balcony door to see what the matter was. He threw the door open and stood outside on the balcony, trying to take it all in. "What?" he exclaimed. "What? WHAT?"


	6. Chapter 6

The peaceful village was gone. In its place was mass hysteria and rioting. The thatched roof of one of the larger buildings was on fire, there were huge gashes in the ground all along the road, one boar-horse and cart that had been hitched together had been overturned and various walls and windows had holes in them.

The banquet area had not been torn down yet, but it looked like it had been demolished professionally. Chairs had been thrown about the place, and some of the tables had also gone flying, except the ones that had been neatly halved by whatever had flown through there.

People were running in circles, screaming, holding one another and crying over the broken bodies of dead loved ones. It was absolute carnage in the blink of an eye. One scream rose above the din, louder than the rest, and the Doctor searched for the source. A team of six animals - these closer to bulls than horses - was hitched to a massive wagon filled to the brim with hay, which had caught fire. The animals stampeded away from the blaze, unaware that they were tethered to it, and were barreling down on a young boy, no more than thirteen. He was right below the Doctor's balcony, and without a second thought the Doctor vaulted over the railing, slid down the drainpipe, and did a forward roll, catching the boy and dragging them both out of the path of the speeding animals.

"You saved me," the kid sputtered.

"Just another day at work," the Doctor replied. The damage seemed even worse now that he was down in the thick of it. "What happened?"

"Nobody knows. Nobody saw anything. The tables just lifted themselves off the ground and went flying. The same with the torches. Anything that wasn't held down went flying, like some great beast was wrecking the village, but that nobody could see."

The Doctor was still looking at the devastation. "Quinn!" he yelled. "Quinn! Where are you?"

"Who are you shouting for?" the boy asked.

"My companion."

"The blonde girl?"

He spun around, knelt down and grabbed the boy's shoulders. "You've seen her? Where is she? She can't have got far, she only came downstairs a minute ago."

The boy was puzzled. "She has been gone two hours, sir."

"What? You must be thinking of someone else."

"No, I remember. The girl who sat with you at the feast, right?"

"Yes..."

He smiled. "Oh yeah. I remember her," he said, smiling a smile only a thirteen year old boy could about a slightly older girl.

"Oi! Watch it," the Doctor said sternly.

He shrugged. "I know blonde hair's not as pretty as brown but I liked her," he said. "Anyway, she came downstairs and walked towards the meadow, when the commotion started. Someone's house caught on fire and they were calling for help through the window. She ran upstairs into the inn and I thought she was hiding, but a couple minutes later she came back with this metal thing that she pointed at the latch, and it opened."

He reached into his pocket. Sure enough, no sonic screwdriver. The boy was not mistaken. "But it's only been a few minutes," he muttered, then he turned back to the boy. "What happened to her? Where is she now?"

"A cleric took her, sir. She was helping to get people out of their houses when doors or windows were locked, but a cleric showed up, saw her with the tube, and insisted she come with him."

"And did she?"

"Only after he tied her up. Which he did after she bit him."

The Doctor smiled in spite of himself. "I've got to find her," he said, and he ran off into the meadow before anyone else could catch his attention. The villagers were begging him not to go, but he paid them no mind.

A few minutes later he was beginning to wish he had. He was tired. No, more than that, he was exhausted. What could be wrong with him? He felt like he was going to fall over right there on his feet. He fought to stay awake, but the deeper into the meadow he trudged the more exhausted he became. Finally he could see the familiar shape of the Police Box ahead of him, no more than 100 paces away. Each one felt like an eternity. Trudge. 99 paces. Trudge. 98. Slide.

97\. Shuffle. 96. He continued to press on, fighting exhaustion all the way. With 20 steps to go he thought of Quinn, held captive by the clerics and waiting for him to save her. At 10 steps he thought of Rose, and how she would never give up on him. And at five steps, of Martha, journeying around the world as it was subjected to the Master's rule. As he slumped against the door and fumbled with the key in the lock, he thought of Sarah Jane Smith, lying on the floor poisoned by a cybermat; she fought that off. He could get through this door. Well, she fought it off with the help of a teleport, which conveniently enough would solve all his problems just now too. His last conscious thought as he pushed the door open and stumbled inside just in time to land on his face was that he should really have a transmat installed some day.

* * *

"Are you not listening to me?" Quinn screamed at the cleric. "I asked where you're taking me!" He remained stoic, refusing to reply, but he didn't have to. She could see them getting closer and closer to the mountain. It was just like Andrinia had said; the mountain was surrounded by blackness. The blue pinpricks of the candle meadow thinned out, then ultimately vanished, over a swath of about a quarter of a mile. From then on, there was no illumination except the fires that burned on the mountain. Against the blackness of the mountain itself, they looked like a cone of yellow flickering lights suspended in the air above the dark ground.

It grew steadily darker as they neared. Quinn hadn't realized either how much light the candle meadow gave off or how dim the stars were until the latter were the only form of light. The darkness felt like a tangible thing that was encroaching on the cart she was lying in. At least he had placed her in gently, propped up in the corner with her ankles bound together and her wrists tied behind her back.

She wasn't frightened, by some miracle. It was almost as if the situation was too absurd to be real. There were some elements of the narrative spinning around her that were vaguely sci-fi, but for the most part this was a medieval tale. It had everything... a sleepy remote hamlet, a mysterious religious order, and now her, the damsel in distress being carried off for God-only-knew what purpose. Just so long as the knight in shining armor showed up soon she wasn't too concerned.

Of course, that was if the knight in shining armor ever woke up. As soon as the trouble had started down in the village, she'd run back up to their room, hoping to see him springing into action, maybe standing on the balcony with the sonic screwdriver in hand, turning away an alien threat or a dragon or whatever it was that was ripping the village a new one. Instead, she'd found him asleep on his back, completely oblivious. She was concerned for a moment that he was dead, but he was still breathing when she checked, and he didn't seem to have been injured in the few minutes she'd been gone, so she took the screwdriver and ran back downstairs to see if she could help in some way. Now she just hoped he'd awaken in time to come get her.

Upon their arrival at the monastery (which turned out to be more of a castle), he helped her stand and removed the ankle restraint so she could walk, and then he led her inside and up a winding staircase. The room they emerged into was nothing short of glorious. Even though she was a captive she couldn't help but marvel at the richness of the place.

They were in a massive hall, the walls draped with tapestries and paintings. A thick luscious carpet covered the floor, and the whole place smelled vaguely of citrus. Her cleric stood at attention beside her while another in even richer looking clothes strode down the massive hall toward them.

When he reached them, he asked the cleric simply, "Is it true?"

"It is, my Lord," he replied, and he handed the sonic screwdriver he had confiscated from her to this master.

"Leave us," the older man demanded, and he did so without a moments' hesitation. The Lord held the screwdriver in his right hand, turning it over several times before he finally pointed it at a nearby candle and pressed the button on the otherwise smooth tube. The flame flickered but did not go out. "You're from off world," he said, and his high, formal tone had suddenly vanished. "Why did you ignore the beacon?"

"What?"

"The beacon! Why would anyone land here after the warnings?"

"What warnings? We didn't get a warning!"

"That's impossible. Anyone who comes within a parsec of the planet gets blasted with the warnings on every wavelength." He shook his head. "It's just no use pretending now. Feigning innocence won't get you anywhere. The law is very clear. Interfering with a level 2-d planet in this way carries a standard sentence."

"Of?"

"Death, of course. You know full well that's the punishment. There's no point making fuss about it now."

If the situation had seemed somewhat absurd previously, it had her full attention now. "Death?"

"By sacrifice as the local planetary law allows."

"Just for landing on an alien planet?"

"Of course not. But a level 2 planet with a subtype d is never to be landed upon for the safety of the inhabitants, and Karass Don Slava is just such a protected planet. Your presence here has cost these people dearly. At last count, fifteen people have died, all due to your careless, reckless disregard for its safety. Now I'm sorry," he said, not sounding sorry at all, "but that kind of gross misconduct cannot go unpunished."

"Please," she said. "There has to be some way I can make... make an appeal or something. I'm not an interstellar traveler. I mean, I am, but... I'm just a passenger. I was traveling with a man called the Doctor, and we just came here by mistake... if you'll just take me back to him we'll leave, we'll never come back."

He shook his head. "Hindsight always carries the benefit of foreknowledge," he said. "But the damage is done, and we can't allow this kind of thing to continue. You will serve as an example to others to be more careful of their flight plans in the future. Maybe the video of your execution on the broadwave will make people think twice."

"But we didn't do anything to the village. We didnt bomb them or anything. Something else is going on here, you have to believe me."

"It's no use playing innocent now. Just stop it. It only looks undignified. Cleric!" He called the last word much louder than the rest of the sentence, and the man from the wagon ride came back into the hall. "Take her away," he said. "Allow her the standard day of meditation. The day after tomorrow at dawn, she is to be summarily executed."

How long had the Doctor said a day was? Twenty-two hours? She had just longer than that to find a way to escape, or they were going to kill her. As promisingly as it had started, this was turning out to be a downer of a day after all.


	7. Chapter 7

Two hours before sunrise, the Doctor came to. He was lying face-down on the ramp just inside the TARDIS' doors, and the cloister bell was clanging. That was a bad sign. He started to drag himself up to his feet, using the railing for support, when he noticed the meadow. The doors were still open behind him, and he could see the stalks waving in the wind. The lights had all but died on top of each stalk of the grass, and the ones nearest him had actually leaned in through the doors, seemingly reaching out to touch him. Now that was interesting.

Kneeling back down and putting his glasses on, he reached out and gently touched one of the plants. He took a deep whiff of it. It wasn't particularly fragrant or malodorous. It was just a bit of grass. But what had started it glowing, and what had stopped it?

More importantly, why was the cloister bell ringing? He ran over to the scanner and consulted the TARDIS' analysis. It wasn't too thrilled about those plants encroaching over the threshold. But they were just plants, no danger to anyone. Nevertheless, he brushed the few stalks that had ventured their way in back out into the meadow, and the clanging stopped. "There you go, sexy," he said, stroking the plexiglas of the center column. "All gone. Now, what do you know that I don't?"

He considered taking the TARDIS and materializing right in the middle of that monastery, getting Quinn back aboard, and leaving this planet behind forever. But that wasn't the right thing to do, and he knew it. Leave the 'storm the castle guns blasing' approach to Captain Jack Harkness or UNIT. He was the Doctor, and he was going to solve this problem intellectually, so help him. And step one was his favorite: information gathering.

* * *

When Merrin arrived to open the library for public access three hours later, she was surprised to see a man thumbing through books and throwing them into a pile in the center of the room. "Village Librarian Merrin Pehru!" he exclaimed, running over and shaking her hand. "Don't worry, just read your name on that envelope. I'm not stalking you or anything. Oh, is it ever a pleasure," he said, still pumping her hand. "Can I just say, for a small village like yours, this is an impressive collection."

"Oh, well, I..."

"I love a good book, me. All kinds, really. Fiction... oh, just wait for Zahn's new book, it'll blow your socks off. But you know my absolute favorite? History. Galactic history, economic history, even local history. Like this one," he said, reaching into the pile of over 50 books and pulling the exact one he was looking for out without looking. "Nothing impressive, just big happenings for the past 500 years or so. Leaders come and go, droughts start and stop, but then this just stuck out in my brain. The Disciples of the Encroaching Darkness... see, this planet has always had religion, but these guys just pop up out of the blue about 300 years ago. It doesn't take them longer than a year to fully integrate themselves into society. I mean, can you imagine? Less than a year? It doesn't make sense. It's as if they staged a hostile takeover but nobody complained. And suddenly here they are, dictating law, taking children to fill out their ranks, and everyone acts as if the status is still quo. But it's not quo, is it? It's as un-quo as can be. So tell me, Merrin Pehru, who around here knows the most about the Disciples?" By this point he wasn't smiling anymore. His nose was inches away from hers and there was a fire in his eyes.

"There's a man called Dargin, always in the pub. He's an ex cleric."

The smile returned and he tossed the book back into the pile. "Thanks ever so much," he said, already turning to leave.

"He won't tell you anything," she said. "He's never spoken a word about the disciples!"

"He'll tell me," the man said.

"Why? Who are you?"

He stopped at the door, and turned enough to look back at her over his shoulder. "I'm the Doctor," he said, as if that were explanation enough.

The pub was on the outskirts of town, so it had been relatively untouched by the massacre the previous night. His heart ached for this place. They were simple people living quiet lives. They didn't know the first thing about dealing with an alien invasion or a terrifying monster; this situation seemed to be a bit of both. The discipleship couldn't have just formed from a grassroots organization overnight, not and risen to power that quickly. More than likely they had come to this planet and established the religion in order to manipulate and control the population. It had him seeing red. Are the people showing signs of questioning what's happening, like Andrinia did? Well, just let loose the beast to ravage the town, then. Ranks growing a bit thin? Just chemically lobotomize some school kid and abduct them. It'll be fine.

Those with damaged homes and dead to bury were being left to the task. Everyone else was doing their level best to get on with life. The bakery and library were open as if nothing had happened, and if anything it looked like the pub was busier than it was normally; the few tables outdoors were full, and there were even people sitting on the dusty ground with their backs against the pub wall being served. No matter what planet, no matter what era, the two biggest reactions to disaster were drinking and denial, and this world was no exception.

He walked into the pub and found a barmaid clearing glasses from a recently vacated table. "I'm looking for a man called Dargin, an ex-cleric."

"He don't wanna be disturbed," she said. "Never does after a burning."

"Like the attack last night?"

"That's what a burning is, now innit?"

"Sorry," he said, but it was lacking the usual tone of actual concern or self deprication. "I'm from the Unknown Continent."

She sighed. "A burnin' comes up every few years or so, and Dargin gets all melancholy - more than usual - and he comes in that door, goes in that back room, and he tips me good to make sure none of you all barge in and give him a hard time about your destroyed homes or your missing children, 'cause it ain't his fault and I won't have you sayin' it is. That's why he left that awful place and all of ya treat him like the bad guy when it's the clerics still comin' to take children away from here." She hadn't made eye contact with him since he entered, but he could see her blinking back tears. "It's not right what they do but it's just the way it is, alright? It's just the way it is and there's nothin' can be done to stop it." She slammed her rag down on the table and started wiping it much more vigorously than necessary.

"Who did they take from you?"

She stopped busying herself with the glasses, and turned to look him right in the eye. "My brother. Just a kid, a few years ago. They said he'd write, keep in touch, you know? We haven't heard a peep in three years."

"I'm sorry," he said, and this time he meant it. "I can help. I want to bring everyone back, and I'm going to. But I need to know more about the Order and the clerics. Please."

She considered a moment. "I'll ask him for you," she said. "No promise he'll speak to ya but I'll ask."

"Thank you."

She disappeared into the back room for a few minutes, then returned. "He says he'll see ya... if you'll buy him an ale."

"I think that can be arranged," he said, smiling.

"Here," she said, pouring a couple. "You best be carrying them when you come in."

She handed them over, and he opened the door, setting the drinks on the table. His surprise at not seeing anyone on the other side was eclipsed by the surprise at having an arm slung around his shoulder and a knife pointed at his throat. "Dargin, I presume?" he asked in a strained voice.

"Who wants to know?"

"The Doctor," the Doctor said.

"Not good enough," he hissed. The smell of liquor on his breath was strong enough to be overpowering. "Whaddaya want? Complain about some kid they took from your family? Moan about the burning? Or do you just wanna spit in my face?"

"That's standard for you, isn't it?"

"From everyone except Mag," he said, his grip relaxing. "She's the only one around here who doesn't treat me like scum."

"All I want is information about the Order - or the Disciples. That's what they call themselves, isn't it?"

"Yeah..."

"I just want to know more about them. What do they believe in? What do they worship?"

The grip tightened again. "Why?"

"The burnings," he said. "What if I could help? What if there was never another burning again?"

"Don't be daft," he replied, but he moved the knife away. "Nobody talks like that."

"I do," he said. "There's always a way and there's always hope. Help me."

Dargin considered a few moments, then the Doctor was released as Dargin shoved past him, sat back down at the far end of the table, and repositioned both ales so they were in front of him. He drained the first one in just a few seconds, then began sipping on the second one. "Whaddaya need ta know?"


	8. Chapter 8

Meditating on your death for a whole day beforehand sucked. It was surprisingly dull, and when it wasn't dull it was terrifying. Quinn still surprised herself - she was barely concerned about her own demise. The thing that really had her fretting was the baby. What had _she_ done to deserve this? Quinn decided that she would get out of this alive, just to save her child. Her unplanned, unwanted child, the one she would have given to Terri Schuester the second she was born if she still lived on the same planet. Why did she feel compelled to protect this little girl, whose presence had cost her everything she ever cared about? It didn't matter. They had each other, and that was all that mattered.

So they were getting out of here, the two of them. It looked like it was going to be up to Quinn to do most of the planning and execution, but that was okay. She'd come up with something.

What would Santana do? _Not let Puck get her pregnant in the first place_ was the first thought, but she shoved it aside. Santana would probably glare at the guards, insult them, tear them down verbally and leave them emotionally drained. Not all that effective, actually.

She thought about the little girl she was protecting. Okay. What would Santana do if someone threatened Brittany? Most likely wait for a meal to be delivered, break the guard's wrist, steal his keys (using one to gouge his eyes out; hopefully that wouldn't be necessary but this was the fiery Latina she was thinking of emulating after all) then break out of there and run for the hills. Okay, this was a viable option. She just had to find the right time.

She ran through the drills Sue Sylvester had forced all the Cheerios to endure. Half the time it seemed like the cheer coach had been training her own private militia, not trying to win at competitions. She'd had her differences with Ms. Sylvester, but she was silently thankful for everything now. It wasn't going to be hard. Wait for someone to come in. Kick behind the knees, sweep his knees out from under him, then a knee drop onto the windpipe. It should be enough to incapacitate someone, at least long enough to get his keys.

Then she had a choice; either try to run for it or find a place to hide here. It was daylight out by now, and with nothing around in any direction - not even the glowing blue grasses - she'd be easy to spot and even easier to pick off with an arrow; she didn't know if they had any such weapons but it seemed smarter to play it safe, assume the worst, and be pleasantly surprised if things went better than expected. She would hide out in the monastery and then, at nightfall, she'd make a break for the TARDIS.

It was another four hours before she saw another living soul. He came to the bars but didn't open them. "The remainder of your meditation is to be done on the altar," he said, "so you may commune more freely with God as you repent for your sins."

"I've heard enough of that kind of talk from pastor Van Eldren," she said. "I'll stay right here if it's all the same to you." She stepped to the side of the cell, ready to kick his knees out from under him when he entered.

"You will not come?" he asked.

"Nope. You'll have to come in and get me."

He sighed, and brought a small vial out of his pocket. "So be it." He squeezed it, and a mist of liquid hit her square in the face. "That's cheating," she thought as she swayed and fell to the ground.

* * *

"The Order is what the village call them," Dargin said. "The Discipleship is what they call themselves internally. Their entire religion is devoted to purging every last bit of darkness out of a person."

"Darkness? What do you mean by that?"

"Fear. Jealousy. Hate. Anger. Sorrow and depression, even. Any tiny bit of negativity is squashed."

"And that's, what, to attain enlightenment?"

"No. To stop it coming back."

"You've lost me."

"Every dark thought, every negative emotion... it comes back twofold. Sometimes stronger. You lay down to sleep, and they come at you, in your dreams. Always in your dreams. And it's always worse; the annoyance at a relative who won't be quiet by day is a burning murderous rage by night. It always comes back stronger. It always has."

"Always?"

"Since the disciples started, yes."

"But before that? The history books don't say a thing about it."

He shrugged. "I only know back as far as I can remember," he said.

The Doctor leaned back in his chair. "So why'd you leave the order?"

"Why was I excommunicated is more like it." The Doctor raised his eyebrows. "I told ya, they insist on purging every dark thought. I need my darkness," he said simply. "It's got me through several rough spots and it probably will a few more."

"It can be more trouble than it's worth sometimes," he replied.

"Yeah, maybe, but cuttin' a part of ya out 'cause you don't like it doesn't seem wise."

The Doctor smiled. "You seem wiser than any of the clerics I've seen," he said with a warm smile. "Now, I'd better get on my way. I have to negotiate for a prisoner's release."

"When'd they snatch 'em?"

"Last night."

"Then you better hurry. New captives get a full day plus the remains of the day they brung 'em in on to meditate."

"To seek forgiveness for their sins?"

"Nah. They lash them to the altar for a night, then execute 'em."

The Doctor's chair fell to the ground, he had stood up so fast. He was running at top speed back to the TARDIS. He couldn't let anything happen to Quinn. She was under his protection, and he'd promised to keep her and her child safe. He'd promised to start her on an easy adventure, and here she was about to be ritually sacrificed. Was there any definition whereby this could be considered 'good care'? Maybe in comparison to her own parents who'd forced her out of her home, sure, but even they hadn't left her for dead.

He crossed the threshold and started plugging coordinates into the center console. The cloister bell immediately started up again, and he read the alert on the scanner. "What?" he asked it. "What's so important? What's the problem with the grass?" He didn't have time for this stupid machine's nattering. He had to get in there, save Quinn, and punish those who did this to her. They had to be stopped. He'd kill them all, painfully.

Wait. No he wouldn't. He was the Doctor. He'd give them a chance, and if he had to, he'd stop them, but he wouldn't kill them. No, death was too good for them. How about torture? Slow, painful, vivisection. He could keep them awake to watch.

No! No, no that either! No killing, no torture! Where was this coming from? It was like the old drunk had said; every dark thought returned tenfold. He ran his hands along his face and when he pulled them away, he found three of the glowing blue grains. As soon as he pulled them away, the jumble of emotions faded.

"Hallo..." he said. "Oh, that's brilliant."


	9. Chapter 9

Quinn was on her knees, tied at the wrists to a great stone god with red cloth. She tugged and struggled, trying to break her bonds.

"You should be resting, daughter," one of the clerics said. "Do not tire yourself before the ceremony."

"Seeing as I'll be dead when the ceremony ends anyway I don't really see how it matters," she spat back.

"You must be punished for your crimes," the cleric said, and he did at least sound genuinely sorry about it. "The law demands it."

"The law seems pretty unforgiving, especially to 'newcomers'," she said, putting emphasis on the last word and glancing pointedly at the chief priest, who seemed to know all about offworlders. He claimed they'd been warned but it didn't seem that way to her. He wouldn't return her gaze.

Two elders in red robes brought him a large wooden box, engraved with images Quinn didn't recognize, but which must have meant something to the local culture. He opened the box to reveal a long thin blade. Instinctually she backed up as much as she could, but with her wrists tied above her heading wasn't far. "Daughter of Karass Don Slava," he said, "you are charged with bringing darkness to our fair land," he said grandly. Then he leaned in closer. "And for interfering with a level 2 class D planet leading to substantial indiginous deaths and property damage, under article 18 of the Shadow Proclamation," he said in a voice meant only for her. He returned to his grand, over-dramatic tone and addressed the room once more. "Have you anything to say?"

"I'm sorry something has happened here, but the Doctor and I didn't have a thing to do with it! We were trying to help. Just, please don't do this!"

"I'm afraid it is far too late for that. We shall extract the darkness from your soul, and know that you shall be at peace in your eternal rest. Only a miracle will save you now."

And so a miracle happened. It started with an inexplicable breeze which caused dust and tiny chunks of cobblestone in the chamber to swirl madly about the room. The clerics all looked for the source of the wind, stopping what they were doing. Then a sound rose up out of nowhere, a hissing and whining that ultimately culminated in a familiar grinding sound. Though it was slightly different to the way it sounded inside by the central column, there was no mistaking it for something else. The TARDIS was coming. She had only ever been a passenger, and despite her fear a very small part of her was looking forward to seeing this.

A few seconds later it had come into view. She'd never been so happy to see a phone booth in her life. The Doctor was a picture of cool when he exited the TARDIS. "Quinn!" he said. "Getting on well with the natives, are we?"

"I've been better," she called out. If he was going to treat this like another day at the office, so was she. "What kept you?"

"Oh, not much. Slept in a bit, went down the pub for a drink and a chat. Pretty full day, really."

She rolled her eyes. "You're such a guy."

He looked hurt. "Oh, that was rude..." he said. "So, what about you?"

"Oh, you know. Saved some people from a burning house, got kidnapped by a crazy cult and then almost executed by the high priest, who seems to know a lot more about space travel than you'd expect."

"Oh, now, I think you're being unfair to the Marshall here."

"Marshall?" Quinn asked, but she noticed that the high priest had become pale.

"What kind of galactic history lessons are you getting anyway?"

"None," she said. "You audited my school for a couple months, remember?"

"So I did. Right, crash course."

"That would be good."

"The Shadow Proclamation outlines the different planetary levels and the penalties for interfering with them," the Doctor explained. "Now, planets near the core and the major space lanes... well, they're overseen by the law enforcement types in the galaxy - Judoon, Peacemakers, what have you. But out here it's a lot harder to maintain that kind of order. Space is big, and you can't have a patrol around every planet all the time, which is where a Marshall comes in. One person at a time whose job it is to oversee a planet and make sure nobody interferes. If anyone does, he makes sure they get taken into custody."

"That's great," Quinn said. "Why am I about to be stabbed to death then?"

"Who are-" the Marshall asked, but the Doctor shot him a look.

"Oi! I'll deal with you in a minute," he said. "Class is still in session. Now, some planets are dangerous - land at your own risk. But others are especially prone to contamination - land at the risk of the people who live there. Interfere with one of those, and they don't just take you downtown - they let the natives do with you as they like. And since the penalty is usually death on the less advanced planets, it gives them a nice way to run around the galactic anti-execution laws. But there's a problem," he said, now addressing the Marshall, "because you have the wrong perpetrator. The person you're looking for is me, not Quinn. I attacked the village."

The room grew silent in an instant. The clerics visibly struggled to keep their negative emotions in check, which wasn't easy when someone claimed to have destroyed people and places you loved. "You did... what?" the Marshall asked, and for once Quinn agreed with him. She'd run off with this guy with almost no information about him... how would she know if were a mass murderer, a psychopath, or even just plain crazy? Granted, he'd said that the universe would fall apart if she didn't leave, but she could have slipped away in 1980, or demanded to be taken somewhere safe. Instead she'd just... followed. It was completely against her nature and now, for the first time since she'd seen the inside of his ship, she was wary of him. Still, she was curious about one thing. "You were asleep when the attack started," she said.

"I didn't actually attack. Well, not me exactly," the Doctor continued. "It was my Darkness. But you know all about that, don't you Marshall?"

"Who are you?" the Marshall asked.

"The Doctor. What's your name?"

"High Priest... er, Marshall Collins."

"Now that we're unveiling secrets, tell me about the pollen."

Collins became even paler. He swallowed hard. "It is a verminous weed," he said.

"It's more than that," the Doctor said. "It's a mind parasite."

"It feeds on the darkness in a person at night," he said. "The leaves feed the body of the plant like any other but the pollen itself feeds on the worst parts of a man."

"So the survey team classified this as a class D planet, and took it upon yourselves to rid the place of the infestation." the Doctor was angry now, and he glared at Collins. When two of the clerics recovered enough to approach him, one from each side of the Police Box in a flanking attempt, he stared each one down sufficiently that they retreated without a word, despite probably having the upper hand.

"We were trying to help," Collins said.

"Oh, yes, of course. Thank God for you, shining the light of civilization out on these poor broken worlds."

"We're eliminating a harmful parasite that threatens the lives of the people on this world. How can you disapprove?"

"Eliminating a parasite, sure. Harmful? Not until you got here."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Ever look at a history book from around here? Until a year or so after the survey team arrived, there was no such thing as a burning. It's a relatively new phenomenon in the galactic time frame. But as soon as the Order is established, Bam!" he said, clapping his hands together at the last syllable.

"But we did everything in our power to stop it!"

"Yes, you did. And it's cost countless people their lives. There was symbiosis here until you upset the balance."

There was silence after his statement. The last words rung in the air. "What?"

"You tried to wipe out the psychic pollen by purging every dark thought you'd ever had, and you encouraged the villagers to do the same. You starved it. That's why there's nary a stalk around the monastery. Cut off the food, cut off the organism. But this is no ordinary weed. It's hungry, it needs sustenance to survive, and it's going to go to any lengths to get it. Can't get a decent meal from the village at night? Then it'll suck as much out of one person as it can."

"Like Kalaan?" Quinn asked.

"Like Kalaan and countless others who've had their neural inhibitors fed on. Sucking out every bit of fear leaves a husk of a person behind but at least the pollen gets fed for a bit."

"So our efforts have had the opposite of the desired effect, Chief Priest?" one of the clerics asked.

"We have done only as you asked. Have you misled us?" another said, brandishing his spear threateningly.

"This newcomer speaks sense. Perhaps he speaks for the Gods, not you."

Marshall Collins looked back and forth, from one monk to the other and back again. "So, if we stop starving it, the planet goes back to normal?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because now it's been fed," he said. "Here it was on the brink of starvation, when the tastiest meal imaginable showed up out of the blue. Me."

Quinn swallowed hard. She could see the pained look on his face. And she understood. There was something about loss and pain... it brought a slew of emotions with it. Anger, jealousy, rage, depression. The list went on and on. He had to have a lot of that welled up inside, too. From the short time they'd been together it seemed like he managed it well, but if they were dealing with a thing that fed on those emotions... she shuddered to think how much each of them had fed the thing.

"So what? We can starve it all over again. We can get rid of you."

"You're right," the Doctor said. "You could kill me. And Quinn for that matter, sorry Quinn. And eventually the pollen would die out. But not before it's tried to stir up as much darkness as it can out of the village, trying to stockpile as much fear and anger as it can with more and more burnings. If you try to keep on this way now that it's become as strong as it is, then it'll kill every last man, woman, and child on the entire planet, and then the pollen itself will die out. This whole world will be completely devoid of life, and that will be on your head."

Collins swallowed hard, and he barely managed to squeak out a meek, "What do I do?"

"Cut her down," the Doctor said, quietly now. "Let us help." The Marshall nodded, not making eye contact with either of them as he cut he red ribbon that held Quinn's arms above her head. She slumped forward slightly when the tension was taken away, but the Doctor had his arms out, helping her to her feet. "There you go, I've got you," he said. She hugged him tightly and didn't want to let go. He stroked the back of her head softly. "You're alright. You're okay."

"I was scared," she said.

"I know. We're okay now."

"I wasn't just scared for me, though..."

"We'll talk later, I promise. But just now we have to take care of the villagers. Are you alright to go on? You can wait in the TARDIS..."

She shook her head. "No more running. If I'm gonna be here, I'm all in." She pulled back. Her eyes were still moist but her face was hard set. Resolved.

"Good girl," he said, smiling at her. "Let's go."

"The Marshall still has your screwdriver," she said, but he was already walking up to them, handing the tube over. The Doctor tucked it safely in his pocket.

"I'm coming with you," the Marshall announced. "This is my planet to protect - my jurisdiction, and I will do my duty."

"Don't you think you've done enough?" the Doctor said crossly, but his scowl didn't reach his eyes.

"You know the system too well to just be a criminal trying to weasel out of your jail time," Collins replied. "I tr..." He trailed off. Trust was too strong a word. "I believe you," he amended. "And if what you say proves to be true then I will help stop the destruction I've created or die trying. I owe the planet that much at least."

The Doctor seemed torn. He didn't trust this person's ability to help, but he had to give him a chance. "Fine, come on. But stay out of my way." And he had vanished through the door into the TARDIS.

Collins turned, raised both his hands in mock religiosity, and said to the assembled clerics, "Carry on in my stead, good knights of valor and light. This, er, messenger of the gods has come to help." The clerics didn't seem impressed. They closed in on him slowly, trying to block the escape routes from the room.

"Come on," Quinn said, tugging him into the TARDIS after her. "I think the crowd has turned on you here."


	10. Chapter 10

Quinn stood just inside the door by the hat rack, waiting for the Marshall to be shocked at the inner dimensions of the TARDIS. He failed to do so.

"Nice time capsule," he said. "Type 50?"

"40," the Doctor replied.

"He knows about the TARDIS?"

"Well, maybe not this one but... yeah. The Time Lords worked pretty closely with the Shadow Proclamation," the Doctor said. "There's a plaque authorizing this TARDIS as an official police vehicle somewhere around here."

"There are other TARDISes? Er, TARDISii?"

"Were," he said, fortunately too engrossed in what he was doing to be melancholy. She was surprised, somehow. It was silly as soon as she thought about it for a moment, but somehow the strange box had seemed so uniquely him that it was peculiar to think of another such machine anywhere in the universe. Somehow a bit of the magic was lost when she pictured the Doctor heading down to some TARDIS dealership, picking this particular box out of a line of vessels disguised as chests of drawers, mailboxes, old steamer trunks, refrigerators, and port-a-potties.

"What's the plan, Doctor?" Collins asked.

"The manifest energy of the entire candle meadow is coalescing, becoming more and more like one organism the stronger it gets. Before it would make a meal out of a few of the villagers' darker thoughts, then harvest enough to get through the lean months with a good burning, but that doesn't manifest anything more than a simple beast and a little destruction. Now it's stronger than it's been in centuries and it's going to try to fill out the storehouses."

"But why?" Quinn asked. "What good will that do? You said there was symbiosis here. Why not go back to that?"

The Doctor looked up at her. "You've never been hungry," he said, as if that were explanation enough.

"Sure I have. And with this baby sucking the life out of me I eat more than I ever did before."

"Okay, you have been hungry. Fine. You've never starved. And if you had you'd understand. There's kids that survived the Blitz, or people who lived through the great depression, who've had three square meals a day for decades since then. And I defy you to find me one who still doesn't stockpile every little bit they can. Once you know the fear of not knowing where your next meal is coming from, you'll understand what it is to hoard it for a rainy day."

He probably didn't mean anything by it - it just sounded like a story he'd seen played out too many times before his very eyes. But she couldn't help but feel that he was dressing her down somewhat for her prior life of privilege.

"So, what do we do?" Collins asked again.

"We hope that, even for a plant that covers the whole region, there's a point where enough is enough."

He nodded. "I hope so too. If we get through this, I'll have the planet's rating changed. There won't be a need for a garrison here, and then we'll leave them alone. It's time to stop lying to these people.

After a minute or two had passed, the Doctor opened the doors to reveal that they were now sitting in the middle of the village. The fires had all been put out but some of them were still smoldering. The destruction made Quinn's heart catch in her throat. Last night these had been happy people throwing a feast. They didn't deserve this. Not that most people did deserve their lousy lot in life, but this seemed especially tragic.

It was mid-morning now, and a surprisingly small group of people had gathered when the TARDIS materialized right in the village square. Perhaps fatefully, though, Andrinia was among them.

"Doctor!" she called as soon as she saw him exit the strange blue box. "Have you saved them? Have you brought them with you? Where's Kalaan? Where's my sister?"

He looked pained, and he put his hands on her shoulders when he spoke. "Andrinia. The situation is worse than you can imagine," he said. "I'm going to do my very best to save your world - because your whole world really is in danger. Do you understand? This whole village and everyone you've ever known will be destroyed if I don't do this."

She nodded. "You're going to save everyone. That includes Kalaan, right?"

He hesitated. "I've learned things since yesterday. I'm going to do my best, I promise, but... I don't know what will happen to the people who have already been converted," he said, speaking almost too quickly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... she might be alright when this is over. Or... she might not."

Andrinia looked into his eyes, her own shining with moisture. "But you promised," she said.

"I know. I'm sorry."

Quinn stepped forward. "The Doctor said he didn't know what would happen. Everything might be okay."

"Might? Might isn't good enough! You promised!"

The Doctor didn't say anything, didn't try to defend himself. He just stood there and took it.

Andrinia became silent, however, when the chief priest himself came out of the box. "Daughter," he said, "why do you cry?"

She looked at him with a mix of awe, reverence, and fear. "I... I..."

This must be like meeting God himself and the president, all rolled into one, Quinn thought.

"Do not forget the tenets you have learned, even in this trying time. Do not allow your darker impulses to have free reign. Be strong; it's never been more important. Can you do this?" She nodded. "Good. This Doctor is a trusted friend, and he will do all he can to help. Now we must go. The fate of the world depends upon it."

Andrinia nodded. "Where is everyone else?" the Doctor asked her.

"Mostly they've gathered at the inn, watching the meadow," she said.

"Then that's where we're going," he said. "Come on. I'm never one to miss a good show." The three of them hurried off. As soon as they were out of earshot the Doctor spoke to Collins. "What happened to being honest with them? A moment ago it was time to stop lying."

"Once we get through this and everyone is alive, I will tell them the truth, I promise. But until then, I intend to stem the tide as much as I can."

The Doctor didn't reply. Once they arrived at the inn he could see that the situation was almost exactly as Andrinia had described. There were about fifty people on the second floor of the inn - some on the balconies, some who had climbed onto the rooftop when the balconies became full. All of them stared out over the rooftops to the meadow, and it was eerily silent.

"What are they looking at?" Quinn asked.

"One way to find out," the Doctor replied, and bounded into the inn. Quinn and Collins followed close behind.

Even the hallways and stair cases were crowded and the Doctor couldn't persuade people to let him through. They had been standing on the stairs, just three steps up from the main floor, for five minutes when Quinn decided she'd had enough. "Ooooooh!" she exclaimed, rubbing her side.

The Doctor turned to her immediately. "Quinn? Are you alright?"

"I'm not sure, I... owwwwwwww."


	11. Chapter 11

He stooped down to look in her eyes. "Quinn, what's wrong? Are you alright? Do we need to go back to the TARDIS?"

"No, I just think... I should lie down. Maybe on one of the beds _upstairs_?" she said, emphasizing the last words and giving the Doctor a wink. He smiled back at her, then stepped aside and let her do her stuff. "Aaaaaaaaaagh!" she said. "C'mon, move it people! Pregnant lady comin' through! Please, move, I've got to get through. Owwwwwwww!"

The crowd parted. Begrudgingly, but they parted. The Doctor and Collins followed in her wake. Once they had made it upstairs, it was easier to force their way through the throngs in the hallway. Quinn dug out the key to their own room, which was still locked from her exit the prior night - the Doctor had exited via drainpipe. The three tumbled into the room and forced the door closed again. The Doctor had already pulled the farther door open, and was looking at the meadow.

"Oh no..." he said.

"What's wrong?" Collins asked, coming to stand by his side.

"It's started."

As they stared out at the meadow, they saw a pure black spot forming in the field. It was perfectly round, about the size of a kiddie pool, and expanding.

"What is it?"

"I told you, the energy that's been built up is becoming manifest. You're looking at a brand new life form developing. A single being coming into existence."

"Like the whole meadow's networking itself into one mind?"

"Basically. It's taken so much from me that it doesn't know what to do with itself."

"So now we exterminate it once and for all?" Collins asked. The Doctor didn't reply.

"Do you have to kill it?" Quinn asked.

He looked at her. "Of course he has to kill it. You've seen what it does."

"I guess. I just... It can't help its feeding process. It's just how it was made."

"I'll give it a chance. I always give them a chance," the Doctor said. "But the first priority has to be the safety of the villagers."

She nodded. "I know." They stared out at the growing spot. "What about the villagers it fed on? Like Kalaan and the others?"

"I don't know."

"You said something might happen to them."

"I was wrong. It's not just altered brain chemistry that's the problem. It's a psychic field, covering the whole area like a blanket, that's suppressing their neural activity. And when the suppression field goes away, everything comes back. Every dark thought or bad feeling for a whole lifetime comes back in less than a second. It could drive a person mad."

"You don't want to do this, do you?"

"There was one time, just this once, with Rose... everybody lived. But this is just the opposite. This is the worst kind of day. Because no matter what, someone dies."

"What are we still standing around taking for?" Collins veritably yelled, and Quinn wondered how he had ever managed to keep up the facade of a kindly religious leader for so long. "Just destroy the menace to this world once and for all."

The Doctor turned to face him. "You really don't want me to do that," he said, and strode back into the room. "Come on, Quinn." She followed, with Collins taking up the rear, unsure if he was still welcome or not.

People were much more willing to let them back down, as it meant getting out of the way so they could join the peep show. They left their door open to encourage the throngs to pass them and clear the hall. They marched silently across the village square to the dirt road behind the bakery. The effect of their approach was immediately apparent. A glob of the darkness extended out from the main body, reaching out to them. Now that they were closer, Quinn could see its surface shimmering in the receding sunlight, hilighted with tiny blue specks. It was like oil, but it reflected the light more like polished black stone. The stalks of grass moved, too, tilting towards the Doctor like sunflowers turned to face the sun.

Quinn thought she could hear something else above the rustling of the plants in the wind; a chattering sort of sound that was barely there. The Doctor knelt down next to the meadow, brushing some of the glowing blue pollen with his fingertips. "I know," he said. "Just hang in there. You can do it." He looked over his shoulder at his companions. "It's becoming a being unto itself. It's learning to be conscious."

"Like waking up from a dream."

"If you like." The shimmering mass before them started to waver and stretch itself. Then slowly a column began to rise from the puddle before them. It took on shape and definition as it rose, and soon they were looking at a mirror image of the Doctor, completely smooth and featureless, but unmistakably him. "That's it. You got a lot of this from me, after all," he said. The anti-Doctor opened its mouth but no sound came out. "Okay, I know. It's hard to parse the language. Come on." He held out his hand. Slowly the anti-Doctor raised his arm to do the same. "Quinn?" the Doctor called her name before he touched the black substance.

"Hm?"

"If this gets out of hand, you stay back, understand? Don't worry about me. Just get as many people as you can into the TARDIS. It'll be safe there until the fires die out."

"How will I know if it gets out of hand?"

"Because there'll be no turning back." And before she could ask another question, he reached out and grabbed the anti-Doctor's hand, like a handshake, but he held his grip firm.

"This is... we do not... I do not..." he said, and his voice was different somehow. Deeper. More like a growl.

"Doctor?" she asked.

"I'm fine," he said normally. "Just lending the speech centers of my brain out for a bit. Figured it was faster than teaching him English."

The anti-Doctor replied, and Quinn averted her gaze so she could focus on the changing voices and try to forget that two entities were arguing out of one mouth.

"I do not... understand."

"It takes some getting used to, but you'll manage it."

"I am hungry. No, not hungry. I am afraid. Afraid of the hunger."

"I know. But your mind is growing, sharper by the second. You're no longer acting on instinct alone. You have a choice."

"What choice?"

"You don't have to attack the village for food anymore. The Marshall will see to it that your food source is restored. You can go back to living in symbiosis with the people here. That's what was intended from the start, before anyone else intervened. You don't have to hurt anyone to get what you need to survive anymore. You can let go of the people you're feeding on and I promise you'll get enough from here on out."

"How can you promise this? How can there be a guarantee?"

"Because it worked. It worked before this, for centuries. I know you can't remember, but it did."

"I am... more now. Than I was then."

"Yes, you are. But there's still enough to support you."

"I have tasted... more. I... want more."

"You can't have any more. These people don't have any more to give you."

"Look what I have become with just this taste you have given me. Imagine what I could be with more, and more!"

"You'd kill them. Eventually there wouldn't be anything left to feed on, and you would die."

"You're right." The voice was growing even more menacing now. "But I could devise new methods. I could keep them alive as a food source."

"In constant, unendurable agony to feed yourself? At their expense?"

"Why not? I have the capacity. I have the most terrible impulses of every single person who lives here at the core of my being. Plus the anger of the military man, the scheming of the young girl who lied to everyone, and the rage, the fury of the vigilante."

"If you can taste that, if you really know my mind, then you know I'll do everything in my power to stop you."

"And with no receptacle to absorb the darkness, everyone I've fed on will go mad. Would you do it? Would you really?"

"Don't push me!"

"But your rage is so delicious!"

"This is your last chance," he said calmly. "I'm giving you the chance to keep your mind."

"I don't need you to offer what I can freely take!"

"Take? Oh, taking isn't necessary. I'll give you more than you can ever use." He whipped his hand out of the anti-Doctor's grasp, and clasped both of his hands around the black head. The anti-Doctor brought his arms up to try to push the Doctor's hands away, but he wasn't able to. The black mouth worked up and down, but still no sound came out. If Quinn looked carefully, though, she could swear she could see it mouth one word, just one over and over: please.

"Doctor, what are you doing?" Marshall Collins yelled out, speaking for the first time since the inn. But the Doctor was gone to the world.

The blackness was losing its definition now, and the dark mirror image of the Doctor looked like a melting wax figure now. Slowly it was becoming more doughy, less humanoid and more like a blob with each passing second. "You wanted all the darkness you could eat? Well, here you go! I'll force feed you every last morsel!" the Doctor yelled. "This is the darkness that destroyed the Daleks, that killed the Zygons, that sent the Cybermen into the howling void. This is the darkness that lost Rose, that would rather have the Master alive than be the last of his kind! This is the darkness that saw Gallifrey destroyed! The darkness that punished the Family of Blood, that took on the Devil, and that destroyed the last of the Racnoss! This is what you asked for! _This is what you wanted_!"

"Doctor!" Quinn said. "Doctor, stop!"

"Not until I'm finished!" he said with a sneer.

"What about the villagers?" Collins asked.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor said, his face contorted into a grimace. "I'm sorry but there's nothing I can do. I have to finish this."

"But what about them?" Collins pressed. "Without a receptacle, they'll be destroyed."

"I have to do this!" By now the column had started to recede again, and the Doctor towered over it with his hands still clamped on it. Now it looked more like he was strangling the life out of something.

"I can't let that happen," Collins said.

"Don't interfere with-" the Doctor started, and then there was a searing white light in his brain that threatened to overcome his whole being. He felt his knees give way, and then there was nothing.


	12. Chapter 12

He woke up in a bed. He glanced around without moving his head. Kalaan's room, where the whole thing had started. He tried to sit up.

"Don't move," Quinn said, noticing him stirring and placing a gentle hand on his chest to keep him down. He didn't fight back, just groaned in pain.

"How long?"

"About twelve hours, maybe a little longer. It's hard to keep track."

"What happened?"

"I think you did it... whatever you were doing. You're gonna have to tell me."

"I gave it what it wanted. Plants go into a dormant mode when they have sufficient stores to last the winter, just like animals hibernate. Oooh," he said, rubbing his throat. "Scratchy."

She handed him a glass of water and he sipped at it. "So you filled its stores yourself?"

"Overfilled. I force fed it every bit of darkness I could muster. I forced it into a hibernation cycle. It'll stay there until it's used everything up."

"And then doesn't everything start over again?"

"No. If the people here don't starve it, it'll go on feeding on the latent darkness it gets from their dreams. Nobody gets hurt, everyone goes on with their happy lives. But it comes at a cost. It'll never develop intelligence like that again."

"You saved the village," she said.

"And destroyed a brand new intelligent life form as soon as it was born." There was no joy in his voice. Only sadness. "But the question remains... what happened next?"

"You blacked out."

"I know. Why?" She stood up, didn't look at him. "Quinn, what happened?"

She thought back to the prior night.

* * *

Collins had licked his lips, hesitated for a moment, then rushed forward and grabbed one of the Doctor's hands. "What are you doing?" the Doctor asked.

"Saving the villagers. Protecting my charge."

"No, don't! The psychic energy will flow through me like a conduit and erode your mind!"

"And the villagers will be saved!" And without another word, he jammed the Doctor's hand onto his temple. All three screamed - even the pool of blackness was emitting a screeching sound now. The Doctor fell to his knees, Collins fell away and curled his knees up to his chest, and the blackness faded away into nothingness. The blue specs of the Candle Meadow faded away, and for the first time since they had come to this world, the meadow was completely dark.

She ran over to the Doctor and knelt next to him. "Doctor? Doctor, wake up!" She shook him but he remained unconscious. She stood and faced the village. "Help! Help me!" She called.

She checked Collins next. He was breathing, he had a pulse. And he was staring, unblinking, into the sky. "Stop... Doesn't stop... Won't ever stop. Can't stop," he mumbled over and over again.

It took a minute, but eventually a few of the villagers arrived, ready to help take them to safety. And Quinn couldn't help it. She should have hated the man for everything he'd done... only she didn't. She held his hand all the way back to the village.

* * *

"He sacrificed himself," she said. "He gave himself over so that the rest of them could survive."

"Did it work?"

She nodded. "It worked. There's a man from the village - Dargin, I think it was? He's bringing everyone back from the monastery now. He said it was the least he could do. The Order's taking their lead from him since apparently he has some experience. He promised the days of encouraging people to shut down their emotions was over."

"With him in charge I don't doubt it." The Doctor sat up. "I think I'm okay to walk," he said. "We'd better be on our way."

"Don't you want to say goodbye? I'm sure they'll want to thank you for everything you did."

"That's not really how I do things," he replied. "Come on, time we were off."

"Doctor?" He stopped, looked at her questioningly. "What about the Marshall? I think we misjudged him."

"Without him, nobody here would have died."

"And as soon as he found that out, he tried to make it right."

The Doctor nodded. "Yeah."

There was a moment of silence, then, "He's in the next room. He keeps muttering to himself, and he won't let anyone near him. I was thinking... can we take him with us? Back home, I mean?"

"Not that he'll ever know the difference. If his mind's as bad off as you say it is..."

"I know. It just seems right." She locked eyes with him. "Please?"

He nodded. "Alright."

They found him in the living room, sitting with his head in his hands, curled up in the corner. "Nobody's been able to get him to eat or drink anything," she said. "It's like he's not even there."

The Doctor nodded. "Marshall?" He got no reaction from the man with his title, so he tried his name. "Collins? Can you hear me?"

He looked up at the Doctor now, his eyes wide with fear. "No, no, no! Don't let them take me! Don't do it! No, please, not that!"

"It's alright, it's okay," he said, reaching a calming hand out and squeezing Collins' shoulder. The terrified man tried to shy away from the touch, but after a few failed attempts he just stared at the hand, going stone still like a frightened rabbit. "That's better. Hello." Collins tried to smile at him, but somewhere along the way it turned into a grimace. "Marshall, would you like to leave this place?" he asked kindly. The man seemed torn about it for a moment, but then he nodded vigorously. "That's right. It's brighter outside. There's light. No more darkness. Just light."

"Just... light..." he repeated feebly, and he allowed the Doctor to help him up.

"That's right," the Doctor said soothingly. "There's a good fellow."

On the way out of the house, with Collins draped over both their shoulders, they saw Andrinia, locked in an embrace with Kalaan. "You know, not everything turned out badly," Quinn said.

Andrinia saw them, gave them a wave and a smile. The Doctor returned it. "No, I suppose not."

"Let's come back, check on things in twenty years or so."

He smiled. "Maybe."

"We're not going to, are we?"

"Probably not. Again, not how I do things. Sometimes it's better not to look back."

She nodded, not necessarily agreeing. "So, everything you said back there... when you were taking the darkness on... is it true?"

"Mm," he said simply by way of assent.

"I think... I think I do get you, a little bit anyway."

"How so?"

"Before we left McKinley, you told Rachel that sometimes you get to decide who lives and who dies. But days like today... there's no choice at all, is there?"

"No."

"Maybe that's best. I mean, maybe what matters isn't if we saved everyone or not. Maybe what matters is that we tried."

"You think?"

They continued towards the TARDIS, with Collins still stretched between them, muttering to himself. They didn't say anything for a minute, then she replied, "My mom had one of those sappy inspirational books that she was always reading at us. There's this one story about a guy throwing starfish that have washed up on the beach back into the ocean. Somebody asks him why he's doing it, because he can't even save a big enough number and he'll never make a difference."

"And what does he say?" the Doctor asked, knowing the answer full well.

"He just picks up a starfish, throws it back in the ocean, and says, 'It made a difference to that one.' Maybe that's what we did today."

They'd reached the TARDIS by now and helped Collins sit down on the chair in the console room. The Doctor pulled his ID card from a hidden pocket, and scanned it over a glowing orb on the console to find out Collins' home planet. "Yeah. But we made a difference to him, too."

Quinn didn't try to say anything else profound or wise; she didn't have a reply. She just nodded along. "Yeah. We did." And it was true; you could argue that every bad thing that had happened here today had been Collins' fault. So why did she still feel responsible for the limited role she and the Doctor had played? "So, what now?"

"Better get this guy home, hadn't we?"

"And then what? You're right; sometimes bad things happen. But... we can't just stop."

He smirked at her. "What, us stop? Nah. We've go places to be, things to do. Differences to make."

She smiled back. "Sounds good." And it did. It really did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two down, who knows how many to go! The Doctor and Quinn will return in Long Goodbyes


End file.
